


Jessie's Girl

by OnForeboding



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnForeboding/pseuds/OnForeboding
Summary: Miranda and Silver converse





	Jessie's Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandomfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfan/gifts).



Silver knew his attempts at being surreptitious were shamefully failing.

Not for the first time, during the last few minutes, he wished he’d just refused Mrs. Barlow’s invitation to wait for Flint inside the cabin. Leave it to Flint to send for him and then leave before he got there. He’d been busy with Randall’s stubborn refusal to literally shit or get off the pot. The old man was slowly but surely driving Silver insane. This, among _other_ reasons, was why Silver was always more than willing to come when Flint called. But since Mrs. Barlow had come on board that had all stopped. So, when Billy had come down looking for him, saying Flint had requested his presence, Silver had been wary. He thought Flint might’ve found a moment away from his companion solely to break off their arrangement. In his experience, men often found a way to swiftly get rid of pretty, curly haired youths when ladies were about. But then again it didn’t seem like Flint at all to give notice of such a thing. It would probably end just as abruptly as it had begun, not a word to be said about it. So another part of Silver hoped for a different agenda for this meeting.

From the corner of his eye he could see that Mrs. Barlow was no longer pretending to focus on her book either and was now openly studying him. He struggled to remain still.

“You don’t have to stand at attention, Mr. Silver. Or are you also convinced that I’m the wicked witch of the woods?” She let out a quiet chuckle. “Binding James to me through my wiles and guile…”

Silver relaxed slightly and smirked. “If you are, you must be a powerful one indeed.”

Mrs. Barlow turned on her chair, facing him fully now. “How so?” She asked, a sly but somehow encouraging smile on her face.

Silver took a second to assess his chances here. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you about the Captain, as I suspect you are far more informed about his nature than I am. His true nature, anyways.”

“His true nature?” 

Silver smiled. “I am not a fool. But nor am I a brave man. And I think it would take one or a combination of both to continue to pursue this conversation with yourself, my lady.” 

Mrs. Barlow‘s smile grew. Her eyes on him suddenly felt very heavy and... knowing.

“No one man is one thing. I have long believed we all have a series of natures warring against each other within us. Take yourself, as an example.”

Silver tilted his head questioningly.

“At first glance, one could surmise a few natures. You are not British; at least not fully. Despite your position on this ship, you have not known much hard work or fighting. Your hands are swift but supple, your skin darkened but pristine. You move with a practised confidence but only around those you believe below you. When required to show reverence you do so unabashedly and with no visible rancour. And yet...”

Silver realised he should not have swum this far out. What looked like shallow water at first was now proving to be a very sudden drop and he was rapidly losing his footing. He tried to remain relaxed and smiling.

“You just walked in here, with barely a knock on the door!” Mrs. Barlow continued. “Which speaks of familiarity. It also tells me you were not expecting mine or Abigail’s presence. Only James’s.”

“The Captain has been reluctant to let the men be in the company of yourself and Lady Ashe, even when he’s present, so—”

Mrs. Barlow got up and took a few steps towards him. “The men? Are you not including yourself amongst them? How peculiar. But no. That’s not it.”

She walked closer, slowly. A strange mix of propriety and danger, which seemed to Silver the very nature of witching, now that he thought about it. Maybe the men were right after all.

Silver crossed his arms. Mrs. Barlow’s smile only grew wider. She sat on the edge of the captain’s desk, her arms extended outwards, hands resting on the dark wood. It was a pose he instantly recognised—Flint often assumed it. 

“I know much of James’s true natures. And I suspect you know a bit yourself, by now. But what of yours?”

Silver snorted. “What would you like them to be? The one thing I’ve learned in my life is to be remarkably adaptable. When you’re born with very little in the way of comforts and wealth, it’s an essential skill, my lady.”

He had to try to shift this conversation. Especially when Flint could walk in at any moment.

Mrs. Barlow didn’t even flinch. “And what natures do you choose to show your Captain?”

Silver swallowed hard, despite himself. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Mrs. Barlow not only wasn’t a daintily aloof lady but that she knew substantially more than Silver had anticipated.

“I show him whatever he needs from me.”

Mrs. Barlow tilted her head and crossed her arms in front of her lap. “Whatever he needs or whatever he _wants_?”

Before Silver could answer, next to him the door to the cabin flew open.

Flint walked in, surrounded by the customary malcontent he wore outside those walls. (Silver knew better now). He stopped abruptly, looking between Silver and Mrs. Barlow. He turned his gaze downwards and tilted his head Silver’s way. “What are you doing here?” he half growled.

“Billy said you were looking for me. What can I—”

“Get out. We’ll discuss it later.” Flint moved away from Silver and started removing his weaponry.

Mrs. Barlow straightened her dressed and fiddled with her pinned hair, the perfect picture of demure once more. Silver wondered who this show was put up for.

He stood awkwardly for a second too long but retreated, as requested. Before closing the door he paused long enough to be able to get a final glimpse into the room. Flint and Mrs. Barlow stood exchanging a loaded look. Sadly, whatever was said through it was for them to know and for Silver to wonder at for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield, simply because the idea for this fic occurred to me while I was listening to it!
> 
> My thanks to [Linz](http://linzorz.tumblr.com) for editing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it fandomfan! MERRY XMAS :D


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